


Amaranth

by WindStainedDreams



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Implied Civil Unrest, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Psychotropic Drugs, Underage Drug Use, Young Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindStainedDreams/pseuds/WindStainedDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dream world comes at a price, especially for its creators.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaranth

She drifted, in and out of the white, fluffy clouds. Floating. That was all she was aware of. Just floating. And it felt nice for the first time in her life. So peaceful. No pain. No problems. No hunger. Nothing but calm. She let out a sigh. Here, she had no place, no home, no family. No one to worry over her, no one to care about the things she did. No one to yell, to hit, to punch. No one there. No name. She had no name and all was perfect. All was well and good in the world. 

She looked down on the world and couldn't believe that what she saw below her was really happening. The city laid to waste, with a fractioned government no longer caring. Most were lucky to be alive in the streets. Was this the world she had created for herself in the clouds? Was this what she wanted? This bleak emptiness? This land where dreams were barely recognizable memories and nightmares were all too real? And still she drifted, away from it all. Detached observer to the wastelands. An apathetic angel. 

Then she saw him. The one she had built this world to find. The one that was her air, her fire, her water, the foundation stone upon which she stood. She reached out to caress his beautiful face, to brush his thick, brown hair from his eyes, and found she could not touch him. Her hand would not reach him! She tried calling out, and yet, if her voice made a sound, neither heard it. A faint, gentle song in her ear, whispers from a time almost forgotten. The voice, his, so sweet in her ear, from so long ago. 

Screaming, crying, breath coming in hard, heavy gasps and pants, she tried once more to reach him, but her fluffy clouds would not permit it. They carried her away, drifting peacefully on a breeze. It could not happen! It could not end like this! So close! But she could feel herself fading away, the dream lulling her to sleep. 

And even as she started awake and drew her first real breath in days, her eyes sought what she needed. When her hand landed upon it, the panic and desperation receded to the corners of her mind. The clatter of the street vendor ending his day early could be heard throughout the warehouse, and glimpses of the man framed by the late afternoon sun could be seen through the cracks in the walls. Still, the need did not leave her completely and she thought on him but a little while. 

Everything faded as a picture of the boy’s face filled her mind, and she plunged the serum from the needle into herself again without a second thought.


End file.
